


Unqualified AU

by coldturkey



Series: The Unqualified Multiverse [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blame Sandy, Crack, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Multi, One Shot Collection, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Silly, What-If
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-05 20:40:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11585787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldturkey/pseuds/coldturkey
Summary: Miscellaneous prompts, one-shots, and other such nonsense.This is where prompts related to or inspired by my main workUnqualifiedgo. Everything is non-canon unless explicitly stated otherwise. Chapter 1 is a splash page, including a table of contents. Feel free to comment there with any ideas or requests! <3NSFW chapters will be prefaced with an asterisk(*).Canon chapters will be prefaced with a hash/pound sign(#).Right now:(ch.2) is prefaced with an asterisk(*).(ch.3) is prefaced with a hash/pound sign(#).





	1. Splash Page / Table of Contents

 

###  **Table of Contents**

  1. Splash Page
  2. * Messages from the Beyond (NSFW)  
      _\- Solas ends up reading some of Sandy's fanfiction, and is horrified._
  3. # Nug Death Tango (Canon)  
_\- A nug dances with hooves, gets smooshed. When Ellie snorts Soven asks why she dislikes nugs._




	2. * Messages from the Beyond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the past several weeks, Solavellan fanfictions written by Sandy have been appearing at random on Ellie’s desk. Solas notices a stack of the papers while dropping off a tome, and before Ellie can explain the exact nature of her best friend’s writing, she gets called away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set in an Unqualified AU where Solas knows of Ellie’s origins, and they are in an established relationship. The location is Skyhold. 
> 
> Shout out to [Qophia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qophia/) for making me realize this needed to be a thing.  
> (I am not sure this is what they had in mind ^^; )
> 
> Shout out to [Orchidellia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orchidellia/) for teaching me about the wonders of Messenger Jim.
> 
>   
> === 
> 
> Due to the obscene amount of Elvhen, **users on a computer can mouse over Elvhen dialogue for a basic translation**. Full translations and explanations are located in the note at the bottom. :) 
> 
> ===

“Ellie,” Solas said, pausing at the corner of her desk. Buried under a small pile of parchment and books was a stack of papers. They were uniform in shape, and the same unnatural white that matched his _Vhenan's ,_ teeth. “What are these?”

He gently shoved the pile of obfuscating objects aside, eyebrows rising when the writing on the topmost page was perfectly uniform. Each letter identical to every other of its kind, in perfect rows, with perfect margins, in perfectly black ink.

“Eh? Wha- ” Ellie started, before Solas heard a loud thunk and she made a startled, choking noise. Solas looked up in alarm to see that she’d _dropped_ the centuries old ancient tome, only to half trip over it in a rush to plaster her hands over the papers. “Don’t look at those!”

Solas’s brow furrowed as he took in her unusually panicked wide eyes, and he frowned. “Ellie, what is-” He began reproachfully, only for her to interrupt him completely.

“Look, uh, they’ve been showing up on my desk at random for the past few weeks.” She said, quickly and haphazardly shoving the papers into a drawer. “At first I thought it must have been Cole, but I think Sandy is somehow sending them here. Otherwise I’d burn them, honest.” As she spoke, she continued to interject herself forcibly between him and her desk.

“You are referring to your friend from your world?” Solas asked.

While Ellie had explained her knowledge of Thedas was due primarily to the writings and ramblings of ‘real Sandy’, she had remained vague whenever he had pressed for details. She had confessed that they revolved around himself and the Inquisitor, but staunchly refused to say more on the subject.

She nodded, but before she could say anything further, there was a sharp and urgent knock on the door.

“Lady Roosevelt,” Messenger Jim’s voice called, “You are required in the healing tent.”

Ellie shot the door a dark look and shouted back, “I’ll be there in a minute!”

“I believe it is urgent, my Lady. Something about Templars and a girl possessed with the ‘epi-ellipses’.”

“It’s ‘epilepsy’!” She swore under her breath, before turning her attention back to Solas. “I can explain everything when I get back, but promise me you won’t read them until then. If, once I’m done, you still want to look at them, I won’t stop you.”

“ _Vhenan_ , is that really necessary?” Solas said, frustrated. It was yet another increasingly common instance where he regretted having not confessed his own nature when she had told him of hers. Her hesitance to divulge information of her world, and its marvels, for fear of alarming him, would not exist if she knew he was more than a mere Apostate. But the moment had passed, and now he could not bring himself to admit his own failure to reciprocate the trust she’d put in him.

“Yes. Now stop trying to talk your way out of it.”

He sighed. “Very well, I give you my word that I will not read any of these pages until after your return.”

She gave him a small smile, cupping his face in her hands. “And no getting Cole to read them either, or reading them through a mirror, or whatever other loopholes you’re trying to come up with.”

Solas pursed his lips. As if he, after thousands of years, lacked the patience to wait for her return. Preposterous. “ _Ma nuvenin._ ”

The messenger resumed knocking on the door, “Lady Roosevelt, I must insist on the healers’ behalves that you do not dally!”

“ _Gracias, mi Corazón._ ” She said, leaning up to give him a quick kiss.

He couldn’t help but return her parting smile with a small one of his own, before watching her rush from the room. The door slammed loudly behind her, and he could hear the pair of humans’ retreating footsteps.

Solas gave the desk drawer containing Sandy’s papers a lingering glance. Whatever information they held must be of a sensitive nature, or controversial, for Ellie to have reacted so strongly. He frowned. If they concerned him, did they also reveal his identity as Fen’Harel?

He shook his head and went to carefully pick up the ancient, one of a kind, priceless tomb Ellie had dropped and subsequently tripped over, inspecting it for damage before returning it to the shelf she had pulled it from. No, if these documents of Sandy’s revealed his identity, Solas would have noticed a change in Ellie’s behavior. She would have confronted him, or worse - avoided him.

Solas pushed the thought from his mind. It did not do well to dwell on such things. He was already all too aware of how selfish he was to allow himself the comfort of her company in the first place.

The air of his _Vhenan’s_ room suddenly stilled, and he gave pause. A wave of energy washed over him, gentle as if the room itself had sighed, and Solas slowly turned around. It was not magic as he knew it, but something else, a subtle and familiar pulse that ended as quickly as it arose.

A lesser mage may have confused it for resonant energy of the veil, or even a spirit pressing from the fade, but it was neither. His eyes swept the room, but whatever force had caused such a strange anomaly was gone. Then he saw them. New, perfectly rectangular papers laying in the center of his _Vhenan’s_ desk. Even from here he could see the alignment of words in uniform ink. Each page of pure white gathered together in a polished curl of silvery wire. 

Solas hesitated, then approache the desk and carefully picked up the sheets. Whatever information was contained within these messages, he was perfectly capable of handling. Yes, it was not in the spirit of his promise to Ellie, but nor was he breaking his word. After all, he had explicitly specified he would respect her wishes with _those_ papers. _These_ papers were another matter entirely.

Affixed atop the first page was a smaller square of yellow paper held in place by a thin strip of weak paste. The pungent smelling black ink had been applied to the dyed sheet with strokes similar to a pencil or sponge.

> _Ells,_
> 
> _More Solavellan! <333_
> 
> _-S_

Solas’s eyes lingered on the Elvhen, and his pulse quickened. _Solavellan_ was a word all but lost to time, found only in ancient minds and memories. How did Sandy, a woman not even of this world, know of it? It had once been a word on the tongues of his men, spoken in the early days after each hard-fought victory on the fields of battle. A cheer that thundered, as deafening as the crack of Elgar’nan’s lightning, every time he defeated an opponent on the blood-soaked earth of the stadium and brought glory to Mythal as her champion.

Bound and twisted as he was, _Solavellan_ had reminded all that he was the living embodiment of _Elvhenan’s _ pride. From when he was adored as much as he was feared. A hero of war, and guardian to the people. Then, later, the word whispered in hushed tones amongst slaves. Four syllables that inspired hope to the hopeless, and reminded The People they need not die for the sake of their masters’ false gods.

It was a word from before, when Solas had revelled in the attention, and been empowered by the worship and praise of an entire People. From before he’d sundered the Fade from the earth and created the veil. Before he, in all his arrogance and folly, single-handedly destroyed an empire with a single spell, and sent the entire city of _Arlathan_ crashing to the ground. Before he’d taken everything from his people, even themselves, and left them with nothing but their Pride and the haunted longing for what they once were.

For Sandy to know of such things, when the horrible shadows that called him _Lethallin_ did not, unnerved him. His first instinct was to immediately burn the note, but doing so would deny him the opportunity to ask his _Vhenan_ the significance of the number three-hundred and thirty-three without suspicion.

With a slow and steadying breath, Solas calmed himself. There was no need for such rash action. He was not so foolish. Ellie had admitted to receiving similar messages for weeks, and the note suggested she was already familiar with the word. _Solas_ was a word as much as it was his name, and he had often remarked that the _Evanuris_ destroyed themselves with their own corrosive lust for power and adoration. His _Vhenan_ would ascribe the term to _Elvhenan_ itself, or the _Evanuris_. 

Solas was fairly certain she had no knowledge of his other name, and the Dalish had done an excellent job of destroying any records that would refer to _Fen’Harel_ as _Solavellan_ or _Solas._ He had nothing to worry about.

Placing the sticky yellow square carefully on the desk, he leaned against the only corner not laden with papers or books and began to read.

> Ellana Lavellan’s bright amethyst eyes opened, and she gasped in surprise. A slender hand covering her slightly parted pouting lips, as she looked upon the glittering sepulchers and towering obelisks of _Arlathan._
> 
> Warm hands encircled her waist, and Solas pulled her close. Her back flush against his chest as he leaned down to brush his lips against the nape of her neck, planting gentle kisses that sent an anticipatory shiver down her spine. The familiar flare of want blossomed between her legs, and she couldn’t help but squirm.
> 
> Solas chuckled, continuing the trail of kisses to the base of her ear before giving a light and playful nip. Ellana bit her lower lip and stifled a moan, and his grip on her tightened.
> 
> When he finally spoke, his breath was hot against her ear. The lilting melody of each word deepening into the growl of a promise. “ _Ar sul'eman ma ara arla, Vhenan’ara._ ”
> 
> “ _Ma melava ghi’lan, Hahren”_ Ellana purred in reply, grinding her hips and the fullness of her ass against his growing hardness. “ _Mala, aman na'mis.”_
> 
> Solas groaned and pressed back, his hands slipping beneath her tunic and running up the length of her body. His slender fingers tracing along the familiar white lines of the _vallaslin_ that curled over every curve of her lithe figure. “ _Mala ar judianan ma I’Elvhen Leanath’ara. Saron ar’an juena’las tuest anor!_ ”

Solas stared at the page, uncomprehending.

Surely this was some kind of mistake, or a joke? A clever and unexpected way to share sensitive information through code? There had to be some explanation, some purpose to sending these pages across worlds. The complexity for such a feat was on par with time magic and his creation of the veil.

What sort of person would use it for THIS!?

No, there had to be an explanation. A reason why. Unable to look at the page any longer, he quickly turned to the next and began reading from the top.

> … arched her back with a needy whimper. The slick between her legs coating his fingers, as she bucked her hips in search of the release he denied her. “ _Sathan, ma lath!”_ She gasped.
> 
> “ _Ma nuvenin.”_ Solas purred, his pupils blown dark as he watched her writhe under his ministrations. He spread her legs further before him, the scent of her sex thick in the air. He kissed and nipped and licked his way up her inner thigh, before burying his face in the sweet juices of her cunt.

Solas clenched his jaw, heat rising in his cheeks. He skipped the rest of the page and moved to the next, this time choosing a starting point at random.

> Each time his cock pulled back, leaving her channel all but empty, she whimpered until he’d impaled her once more with the glory of Elvhenan. “ _Vin vin vin! Pala!”_
> 
> Ellana gasped and moaned with each merciless thrust, her inner walls clenching down as she reveled in the overwhelming fullness of him inside her. They were one, sweat and breath and magic. His aura poured through her, filling and heightening her senses until she drowned in him.
> 
> The size of him hurt in a good way, a comforting ache that sated her like no Dalish or _shemlen_ ever had. She could feel the pressure building again, coiling in the base of her. She shuddered, able to do little more than moan in as she approached her peak.
> 
>  She knew he was close when she shattered once more, each thrust of his having grown more fevered and desperate. The orgasm crashed over her in waves, and Solas cried out her name as the hot spray of his seed filled her once m-

His face and ears now flushed a brilliant red, Solas slammed the papers back onto his _Vhenan’s_ desk and paced the length of the room. Fuming, he approached the drawer and wrenched it open. Normally he would have kept his word, but this was clearly an extenuating circumstance.

After all, he had not learned the nature of Sandy’s messages from the papers he had agreed to leave unread. It was hardly his fault that another, separate, pile of papers happened to appear after his _Vhenan_ hurried away. Given that the entire purpose of their agreement had clearly been to prevent what had just transpired, Solas saw no reason to continue honoring the verbal contract.

He grabbed the pile. Surely they were not all like that - they couldn’t be. Solas glared down at the first page, not bothering to start at the beginning. Breaking his word was not a matter he took lightly, and Solas would accept whatever consequences arose from his actions, as well as Ellie’s ire. Presuming, of course, she ever discovered he had broken it in the first place. Regardless, he needed to know.

> He plunged into her, burying himself to the hilt with a groan. It was his favorite position: doggy style. Ellana Lavellan moaned beneath him like a bitch it hea-

Solas’s nostrils flared angrily – he would never! Another page.

> Lavellan found him at the edge of the woods, wearing only a crown of halla antlers, and an extremely revealing wolf fur-kini. She batted her long, dark lashes at her lover, and Solas stared with a dark and rapidly growing hunger.
> 
> The Dalish minx moved slowly forward, his eyes following each overly-pronounced sway of her hips as if possessed by a demon of desire. “I’ve been so naughty, _Hahren_.” She said, running fingers down past the expanse of her exposed stomach and into her-

> “Slut!” Solas bellowed, smacking Ellana’s most-jiggly ass.
> 
> “ _Hahren_ , please!” The lithe naked figure before him gasped.
> 
> Solas chuckled darkly, “You have been a naughty girl, _Da’len._ And naughty girls get punished.”

He looked to the next one. And the next one. Every page a new and obscene abomination of debauchery. “Why!? Why would she keep these!?”

Page after page of horrors, and every one staring -him-. It was worse than anything Solas could have anticipated or imagined. There had to be a reason, some piece of writing to redeem the rest and make it worthwhile. Something he was not seeing, or had not considered, to explain why his _Vhenan_ would see value in such things.

Solas was about to throw the entire ream of pages back into their accursed drawer, and out of sight, when he spotted mention of Wisdom.

> The Inquisitor opened her eyes to the fade, stepping out of her dream and into the shifting paths. She walked them as she always had, with a calm mind both still and smooth. The paths blurred and hazed, moving and darting, branching and vanishing, fragmenting and coalescing, as the way was revealed.
> 
> The spirit of Wisdom sat in a forest clearing, the tall blades of grass and long dead trees forever living on in memory. Solas was there, as he often was, reclined beside her and engaged in conversation. Often times Ellana felt as though she was intruding. She knew the connection they shared was something more than what either the spirit or the mage let on, but they always welcomed her with secret smiles and open minds.
> 
> Tonight was no different, and she entered the memory after a moment’s hesitation to join them. A gentle breeze carried the smell of spring, and a few more curious wisps bobbed and danced excitedly between the trees.
> 
> Neither had noticed her yet, and Ellana was always struck by how much younger and at ease her _Hahren_ was within the fade. It was as if the weight of countless years and untold burdens had been temporarily lifted. His back was to a fallen log, one arm resting atop the felled tree languidly.

Solas paused, hopeful that, perhaps, some more worthwhile fictions had also been written. Wisdom’s loss still pained him deeply, a fresh wound in an already gaping chasm of suffering. This was by no means an accurate depiction of his meetings with Wisdom, but it got more things correct than the mages raised in gilded cages could.

> Solas wore a small, private smile of amusement. His eyes half-lidded and shoulders relaxed, for once distracted enough not to notice her approach. Wisdom gave Ellana a placid, serene smile, its words like fresh water. “Come join us, _Da’len_.”
> 
> The Dalish elf returned the spirit’s smile with a small one of her own, before turning to anxiously greet her _Hahren_. He looked startled by her arrival, eyes widening with surprise. “ _Savhalla-” _ Ellana began, only for her to stop, her face going bright red. “ _Ir abelas, Hahren!_ I did not mean- I didn’t realize-”
> 
> Solas’s expression cleared, and he gave her a smile and motioned her closer. “ _Tel’abelas, Da’len_. You are fine. Join us.”
> 
> Ellana’s eyes widened, unsure of what to say. Wisdom had her delicate, translucent fingers wrapped tightly around Solas’s cock, stro-

“NO!” Solas cried out, aghast. He wouldn’t- he doesn’t- that’s not- it happened ONCE! Over three millennia ago! Once!  How did everyone always know!?

Was he that obvious? He blanched, his flushed face turning ashen. Fenedhis! Had Ellie read everything in these pages? Did she believe- did she think- was that why she-? The very idea had him feeling ill.

Yes, he had loved Wisdom, but the nature of their relationship was one of close and lifelong friends. Nothing more. The spirit made itself very clear, and nothing more ever happened. Solas moved on like any normal, rational individual, and that was the end of the matter. The very notion that he, Solas, would silently pine after a spirit for thousands of years was preposterous. 

These stories of Sandy’s went too far. They could not be allowed to exist. Gathering up the papers in his hands, he drew an unnecessarily large amount of energy from the fade. With a flash of light, Solas incinerated the papers in an instant.

-

Ellie returned through the door a short time later, still furious over her argument with the Templars. “Without fail,” She began, stomping into the room and throwing up her hands, “every single time that child has a seizure, those lyrium-addicted assholes show up in the healers’ tent, swords drawn, determined to slay the ‘dangerous abomination’!”

Running a hand over her hair with a huff, Ellie looked around the empty room. “…Solas?”

She frowned, her brow furrowing at the distinctly Solas-free room. Then she spotted it on the desk – one of Sandy’s yellow sticky notes. Ellie’s eyes widened, her heart dropping into the pit of her stomach as she vaulted over her desk and pulled the drawer open. It was empty. “Fuck!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Gracias, mi Corazón._ \- “Thank you, my heart.” (Spanish)
> 
>  _[ma] Vhenan_ \- “[my] Heart”, a term of endearment
> 
>  _ma nuvenin._ \- As you wish.
> 
>  _Elvhenan_ \- The place of the people. (The Elvhen nation/empire)
> 
>  _Arlathan_ \- The place I love. (the Capital/Heart of Elvhenan)
> 
>  _Lethallin_ \- One of the people. 
> 
> _Solavellan_ \- Pride that moves/directs/guides/raises/carries the people.
> 
> _Ar sul'eman ma ara arla, Vhenan’ara. _\- “I give/bring/deliver to you my home, my heart.”__
> 
>  _Ma melava ghi’lan, Hahren._ \- “You have spent your time to teach me, Elder.” (a variation on an idiom to say thank you to an intimate/close friend/family/spouse-member)
> 
>  _Mala, aman na'mis._ \- “Now, sheath your blade in me.” (aka: stick your dick in me)
> 
>  _Ar judianan ma I’Elvhen Leanath’ara. Saron ar’an juena’las tuest anor!”_ \- “I will fill you with my Elvhen glory/splendor. Together we will birth a new nation!” (aka: I’m going to fuck you with my Elvhen Glory, and together we will rebuild the empire!) 
> 
> _Sathan, ma lath!_ \- “Please, my love!”
> 
>  _Ma nuvenin._ \- As you wish.
> 
>  _Vin vin vin! Pala!_ \- “Yes yes yes! Fuck!”
> 
>  _Savhalla_ \- Greetings/hi/hello
> 
>  _Ir abelas, Hahren!_ \- I’m sorry, Elder! 
> 
> _Tel’abelas, Da’len._ \- Don’t be sorry, Little One.
> 
>  -----------
> 
> On ‘Solavellan’:  
>    
> While writing this story, it occurred to me that both _solas_ and _lavellan_ are words in Elvhen. That meant when Solas read Sandy’s note, he would understand the word to mean something other than the pairing we all know and love. 
> 
> _Solavellan_ = _Solas_ (Pride) + _vel_ (vehicle/transport) + _lan_ (people, feminine)  
>  = Pride that raises/moves/lifts/carries people
> 
> Using what I know of elvhen from all my reading, it’s common for words to be combined or added to, and for endings to be added or dropped off from the original root words in the process. For example, while _vel_ literally means a large vehicle for transport (like an aravel or boat) _vela_ means to export, haul, ship, or transport.
> 
> From there I decided to extrapolate, and that Solavellan would roughtly translate into the definition provided above. Technically making it Solavellan (the feminine form), vs Solavellen (the neutral form) is a little weird, but I thought it was too funny to pass up. Just roll with it.
> 
> Credit for my butchering of the Elvhen language is made possible, in part, due to the fantastic work done by [FenxShiral](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FenxShiral) in [Project Elvhen](https://archiveofourown.org/series/229061), and the [Elvhen Translator](https://lingojam.com/ElvenDAI) on LingoJam.
> 
> (The butchering part is all me.)
> 
>  -----------
> 
> If you enjoyed reading this, and haven't read _[It's Literature. Smutty Literature.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4878418)_ by [geekyjez](https://archiveofourown.org/users/geekyjez/), then I strongly recommend it.


	3. # Nug Death Tango

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the way back from the Storm Coast, Lavellan and company are beset upon by a single, terrified nug instead of an assassination attempt. This goes poorly for the nug, and Ellie watches the scene unfold in amazement. Afterwards Soven asks Ellie why she doesn't like nugs, which leads to Duncan and Neria joining in a conversation at Martin's expense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: A nug dies. 
> 
> This is an extended/finished scene that ended up getting cut from Unqualified. Despite my best efforts I was never able to fit it in somewhere else, and the window of opportunity for it closed. 
> 
> In my head, this is more or less canon. Especially the first half.  
>  ~~It qualifies as _canonish_.~~  
>  Fuck it, this is canon.
> 
> The scene takes place somewhere in/around Unqualified chapter 34-36.
> 
> Shout out and thanks to [Qophia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qophia/pseuds/Qophia) for betaing. <3

There was a rustle in the bushes to Lavellan’s left and the sudden snap of a twig. Ellie tensed. But nothing jumped out from the shadows, and she didn’t see the telltale glint of metal or the blur of an arrow sailing through the air to indicate a fight. Instead, the relative silence was broken by a terrible, horrible squeaking noise as a nug darted from the brush out onto the road—running directly in front of Lavellan’s horse.

Ellie had never seen one of those creatures so much as waddle, and she glanced towards the bushes for a sign of what had startled it enough to actually move, but she didn’t see anything. The creature continued to shriek bloody murder, colliding with a hoof as Lavellan’s horse shied sideways to get the naked, fleshy thing out from under its legs with an alarmed and confused whinny.

Lavellan cursed, yanking the reins and urging her horse to continue forward despite the nug. The poor horse tried to obey, but the nug also moved forward, weaving between the horse’s legs, unable to figure out how to escape a single four-legged animal.

Honestly, the nug’s apparent determination to seek its own end bordered on impressive. Ellie watched in blank incredulity as the nug proceeded to repeatedly escape out from under the larger animal, only to immediately dart back into the hooved chaos. This macabre tango with death continued for several seconds until, eventually, there was a distinct crunch.

The nug’s incessant squeaking ceased, and Ellie snorted loudly before catching herself and clasping a hand over her mouth. Judging from the unamused silence of everyone else, she was the only one who found humor in the situation. _Oh, come on!_

Seeker Pentaghast turned her head to give Ellie a disapproving scowl. _The thing literally ran into danger repeatedly! It’s the definition of a Darwin award!_ The scary woman then turned her attention to the brush, eyes narrowed for signs of danger. Her frown only deepened when she didn’t seem to find any.

“Did anyone see what spooked it?” The Seeker asked.

“Whatever it was will be gone.” Martin said, “They freeze when there’s danger, then run in panic once the thing that scared them has left.” _Martin -would- be an expert on nugs._ He certainly wasn’t on bears.

Pentaghast narrowed her eyes. “I see.”

The group returned to its normal pace, continuing on as if they hadn’t all just seen a nug try to 1v1 a horse. Ellie made a mental note to try sneaking away from frozen nugs to see if she could get them to run off for the sake of target practice. _Your aim is fine._ She could practice being able to sneak back up to them, then. _When, exactly, do you expect to find the time for this?_ Fine. She could think fondly about the idea of having time for such things.

“What did nugs ever do to you?” Soven asked, a few minutes later, once the nug was behind them. _You mean aside from being terrifying, naked mole-rat creatures with zero survival instincts that also happen to enjoy lunging at your face as if possessed!?_

“What?” Ellie said.

“You glared at it all the way up until its skull was crushed,” Soven replied, more as an observation than a judgement. The day Soven was judging her was the day Ellie was in serious trouble.

“So? I glare at lots of things.”

“Not like that.”

She frowned at him. “Okay, so I don’t like nugs. What’s the big deal? Do you?”

Soven shrugged. “I think they’re cute.”

Ellie stared at him. There was something terribly wrong with Soven calling anything cute. “Who are you, and what have you done with my precious murder elf?”

He regarded her for a moment, then gave Ellie just the hint of a smile. “Well, killing them can be cute, too.”

From anyone else, that response would have set off alarms. Everything from the slight shift in body language to the dangerously playful tilt of his words said, ”I could kill you, and it would be hilarious.” But it wasn’t anyone else; it was Soven. And, in a move that probably spoke volumes regarding her current state of mind, Ellie returned his sly smile with a smirk of her own. “That’s better.”

Duncan, who was riding alongside Neria directly ahead of them, turned in his saddle. “The both of you are disturbed,” he said bluntly.

“Please,” Ellie said, “you know we’re joking.” _Mostly. Sort of. Maybe._

“I know you are—half of everything you say is nonsense. More than half,” Duncan said. “It’s him that worries me.” The crossbowman indicated Soven, who remained utterly unperturbed by the accusation. _More like compliment._

“You’re going to end up with Martin if you start listening to them,” Neria said to Duncan in a lower voice. “Tucking mabari figurines into your bedroll at night.”

Ellie stifled a snort and glanced towards Martin. He was riding up at the front near Lavellan and the Seeker, safely out of earshot from the remark. Somehow he’d ended up near Solas again—a detail Ellie suspected neither was particularly happy about.

“That was once, and he was drunk,” Duncan said, defending Martin.

“That you know of,” Neria countered.

“I’ve heard him talking to them when he thinks no one’s listening,” Soven added, helpfully.

Duncan narrowed his eyes. “You’re messing with me.”

“Of course he is,” Neria said.

Soven shook his head and continued. “He names them after the Ferelden kings.” While Ellie was fairly certain he was kidding, it was hard to tell. Considering it was Martin, she didn’t think anyone would be surprised if he did. “He speaks to them for counsel.”

Duncan cast an uncertain glance in Martin’s direction.

“The advice they give is all barks and growls.”

“Whispered prayers in long-forgotten tongues, the howls of the eldritch hound find root in the innocence of his dreams. Martin is now guided by the that which never was, serving at the mercy of He-Who-Barks-Alone.” Ellie was also helping.

“See, this,” Duncan pointed between Ellie and Soven, “this is exactly what I mean!”

“Woof, woof,” Soven supplied, in what may have been the most deadpan and uninspired delivery of dog noises Ellie had ever witnessed.

Neria and Duncan both stared at him.

Soven offered an unconcerned shrug.

“I told you,” Neria said. “She’s clearly already gotten to him and Martin. You’ll be next.”

Duncan frowned at Neria, “Don’t be ridiculous—you’re the one who shares a tent with her!”

The pair turned their attention to other things, with Duncan more than Neria clearly having had enough of their humor. Ellie wasn’t sure if he just didn’t get it or if the issue Duncan took with how she and Soven interacted—if it could even be called an issue—was related to something else. _Maybe it’s because Soven’s an elf?_ Maybe it was because half the time the way they talked made it unclear they were flirting or joking about killing each other. _More like flirting about killing each other. Or rather you, specifically._

“Hilarious.” Soven remarked quietly, once the pair ahead of them were clearly no longer paying attention to them.

Ellie looked over at him, “What is?”

“He thought you were joking.”

“… So, does Martin actually talk to his Mabari figurines?”

Soven raised an eyebrow, then shrugged. “Probably.”


End file.
